


Happy Memories

by nbbucky



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbbucky/pseuds/nbbucky
Summary: Jim wasn't sure he had ever been happy.





	

“Think of something that makes you happy. For most children your age this memory is linked to family or an achievement. Like winning a Quidditch match. But happiness, that’s the key to this spell,”

Jim frowned when he heard his professor say that, something that makes him happy? He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something that made him happy and came up blank… he was lucky he and the other sixth years were in a line to conjure their patronus and he was near the back or else he would be embarrassed in front of the all the idiots in his class. Jim tugged on his blue and silver scarf and wondered for just a moment how the most clever house was still full of stupid people. He thumbed at the patch, the patch his mother had sewn on last summer. Was that his happiest memory?

The scarf had torn, not because Jim had done anything in particular but because he had gotten it the summer before his first year and things were bound to tear after five winters of use, and he had dreaded asking his mother to fix it for him because she would think he had done something to tear it. It did not help that it seemed his mother resented him now, at first, at age eleven, Jim thought he was imagining it but no… his mother was a squib, who married a muggle and let go of the magical world only to have her second son be a wizard. Perfect breeding ground for hatred even if she didn’t want to because it was her son. Therefore, Jim had been nervous to ask his own mother to help him. Nevertheless, nearing the end of the summer he walked down the hall to his mother’s office, where she did the numbers for the family day nursery.

It had been so warm on that day, the warmth that spread through your entire body but targeted your eyes and made them so heavy the only thing you wanted to do was sleep. Ironic for Jim, who could never seem to sleep even on days like those. The heat had been getting to him in that moment in the hallway that seemed to stretch on forever before it got to his mother’s office. He didn’t enjoy arguing with his mother, plain and simple and so walking down that hallway he felt the worst kind of apprehension. He had knocked and waited a moment as the bile rose up into his throat and his mother called him into the room, already sounding irritated with him. 

“Mother?” He said, making his soft voice even softer like a snowflake joining it’s own in a mound of untouched snow. He felt fragile in the same way in his cramped house in Sussex far away from Hogwarts, like a snowflake floating down, so close but so very far and ready to be thrown of its course in a moment.

“Yeah, Jimmy,” She replied and she was loud and harsh almost grating on his ears. Jim guessed it helped with working with the kids but it always rubbed him the wrong way.

“School is coming up again soon,” Nothing could stop Jim from choosing his words carefully, not even the knowledge he was inevitably going to punished for the interaction he was in, “and I was hoping you could repair my scarf. I use it rather often and would prefer it not to fall into complete ruin by this coming winter,” 

She shook her head almost sadly, “You’re right clever, aren’t you? You don’t have to talk like that around me… I’m your mum,” But then to Jim’s amazement she smiled, a smile he hadn’t seen directed at him since before his acceptance letter to Hogwarts came, “and of course I’ll fix it for you,”

She had led him to the kitchen as if he hadn’t roamed the halls of their house for nearly eight years, there was no place he knew better than his home in Sussex and yet his mother gripped his hand tight, as if she were terrified he would let go and she would hate him again, lose him again. They sat at the kitchen table and Jim could hear very many small children cooing and crying in their front room. He knew his brother and father were with them so he felt no guilt when his mother pulled out a sewing kit and began to pick a small patch to fix the hole.

“Sometimes I look, well looked I, I, I don’t feel that way anymore ya hear. Well sometimes I used to look at you and just wanna kill you Jimmy, not cause of anything you did, sweetheart it’s just you were so hard to handle when you were little I know kids used to hurt you, you know? A mother always knows and I wanted to help and you wouldn’t let me and then you got into Hogwarts, I mean you were a wizard and I was just so jealous. I mean it was all Gram used to talk about when I was small, I was gonna be this great witch and then nothing of note ever came of that but you were so great. And you’re quite brilliant getting into Ravenclaw and all that. You know Gram and Gramps were both in Hufflepuff, I don’t think I ever told you that,” Her ramble had been fast, no breaths taken, it was if she thought if she stopped it would never come out, “But you’re my son and I love you,” She was putting the last stitches into the patch she had chosen, a small dark blue one with a golden star motif, “It’s not fair for me to be rough on you, it never was so I’m not gonna be like that anymore. I’m gonna be a good mum now. Gonna treat you like how I treat Thomas and Annalisa,” She smiled and handed the fixed scarf over to Jim so so gently but it felt like she had hit him with a ton of bricks. 

In that warm warm room Jim felt tears brim to the surface and heard a baby cry, it was his sister, and his mother stood up to go help with her. She left the room and Jim let the warm tears burn his face, he was so conflicted in that moment… had he been happy? 

Happy his mother had admitted her feelings and her plan to change her actions? Happy that he wasn’t crazy? Happy that he knew why he didn’t get hugged and kissed before? Happy? Had he been happy? Had they been happy tears?

Jim reached for that memory on line to cast his patronus and felt his chest beginning to ache, ah, perhaps he had been sad that day, he was usually sad though, that day had felt different to him. Didn’t matter it wasn’t his happiest memory. 

The girl with the sleek brown hair ending in blue curls in the front of the line had done it, her patronus was a hulking, massive bull and it charged around the class much to his classmates’ excitement. 

After she had done it there was a rather large throat clearing noise from across the room.

“Now it’s obvious that not everyone will be able to conjure on their first try, most of you are far too dull to know what your happiest memory is at the moment,” Ugh, Jim felt his skin crawl as he heard him use that voice to patronize to all of the sixth years. Hogwarts had employed an interesting new tactic of teaching by letting seventh years become teaching assistants and Sherlock Holmes had jumped to the occasion, eager to best Jim in whatever way he could. This meant Jim had to cast his patronus today because he could not dissapoint Sherlock. 

He tried harder to think of something, he remembered his mother pressing his very first book of astronomy into his tiny hands but that was tainted with the memory of her taking it away years later. He thought of when his little sister had been born but then he had been neglected because there was a new baby in the house. He thought of Thomas, who at the dinner table had vowed to protect Jim no matter what but was then silent when, for the upteempth time, Jim stumbled home after swim practice covered in bruises. Jim Moriarty’s life was the perfect example of Newton’s third law for every action, a happy memory in this case, there was an equal and opposite one, a sad memory. 

He wanted to leave the classroom more than anything else because he had nothing ‘normal’ to be happy about like everyone else in the room. He could think about Carl Powers, his small body struggling in the pool, but then he had no idea what his patronus would look like and the mere notion that his patronus would take the form of Carl Powers made him want to lose everything he had had for breakfast that morning. 

The student currently in front was struggling and Jim could hear the little noises of sympathy, which Jim could deal with, but then Sherlock walked up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and told her to go to the back of the line. Jim shuddered and imagined Sherlock telling him to go to the back of the line while the other students, the ones who had been clever enough to cast their patronus from the beginning, began to pair up and practice together.

Jim was getting closer and closer to the front of the line and still hadn’t thought of anything when Sherlock stepped up and stopped him just as he was about to try.

He was frowning, “The professor and I have have just finished speaking and we have decided that there have been nowhere near the amount of success we anticipated,” He looked around the class and pointedly avoided contact with Jim, “therefore, I have been been given permission to provide a demonstration,”

Jim struggled to keep his lips from quirking up at the thought, he was going to see what Sherlock’s patronus was.

Sherlock straightened his robes around him and Jim could see the tale tell Ravenclaw insignia. He withdrew his wand and said, “Now I’m going to tell you all something rather personal. This is the memory I think of whenever I cast my patronus, listen I’m only going to say it once,” He sighed and let his eyes flutter for a moment before he continued, “At the welcome dinner for my second year I, like many others, watched as the first years were sorted into their respective houses,” Sherlock turned and looked right into Jim’s eyes as he recalled the rest of the memory, “I made eye contact with a first year after he had been sorted and I knew I was no longer alone.”

He casted his patronus and a lynx, fierce and elegant, pranced around the room before stopping next to Jim, rubbing against him and disappearing.

“Your memory may seem like nothing at the surface but it’s your happiest memory not one that any person can have,”

Jim swallowed and looked around nervously because Sherlock just told his class that his happiest memory was he and Jim first made eye contact. He heard some kids mumbling about love at first sight, not that that was the most apt description Sherlock was speaking of recognition… the love came later. No one seemed to think it was him even after the lynx had shown him favor, which was for the absolute best because he hated having to talk to his fellow classmates.

Sherlock’s happiest memory was a clue Jim realized, Sherlock was trying to help him succeed, which was strange that was usually Jim’s job. Jim analyzed all his memories with Sherlock, Jim smiled, he couldn’t say he really recalled them making eye contact after he had been sorted but he did remember the first time they spoke. 

Sherlock was reading in the common room because if had to endure his irritating roommate trying to hold a conversation with him he was going to jump off a building. The common room had been nearly empty and Sherlock was comfortable when a rush of nearly twenty fourth years, yes fourth year because Sherlock and Jim did not speak face-to-face for four years after being aware of the other, pass by him. One was pushed into his chair to the delight of a group of boys, “Cunts,” Sherlock heard the light Irish voice and knew the boy kneeling next to his chair was Jim Moriarty, it was the closest they had ever gotten to each other. Sherlock could reach out and touch the top of his head without stretching from where he was sitting.

“Are you quite alright?” Sherlock asked, heart racing.

“Yes, of course I am, they barely pushed me,”

“Where are you all rushing off to anyway,”

“Astronomy class,”

“Hmph, how pointless,” Jim would have felt Sherlock’s disappointment if he could have felt anything other than betrayal at the moment.

“Pointless? You must be joking,”

“Of course not! There’s no point to it. It’s a complete waste of time and thought. Surely, you can find another way to application for your genius,”

Jim sighed, “I don’t have time for this. I really don’t but how can you not see,”

“I don’t see, I observe,”

“Well that’s your problem. There’s so much to see and…”

“You should show me some time,” Sherlock cut him off and Jim was struck speechless before running away.

Jim scrunched his nose up, the memory wasn’t negative but it was rather embarrassing and he had been mad at Sherlock at the moment so it wasn’t going to cut it. He thought of the next time they had talked after that which had also been a debate, when were they not debating Jim suddenly thought. He realized that looking back he did cherish them all but in the moment the mixture of emotions he had couldn’t be simplified to something as trivial as happy.

Something simple, something trivial, a memory with Sherlock that wasn’t the heat of a clash of brains, that wasn’t the thrill of whatever game they were playing, that wasn’t pure adrenaline and excitement coursing through their veins. 

“James,” Sherlock said, “It’s your turn,”

He shivered, it was finally his turn and all he really wanted was to hold Sherlock’s hand. 

He remembered the first time he and Sherlock held hands, Jim had finally taken Sherlock to the astronomy tower to stargaze and as Jim spoke on and on about the very basics of the solar system Sherlock had reached out and grabbed his hand.

Jim suddenly felt very fluttery, was that his happy memory?

He held onto it, thought of the way Sherlock’s slightly larger hand fit against his own, thought about how warm Sherlock was even though it had been freezing that night, thought about the small smile on Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock was a dumb genius, Jim had thought, why would he prefer to look at me instead of listen to what I have to say? 

“James, your hand is smaller than I anticipated and very…soft,”

“Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome, continue what you were saying about...,”

“Neptune, yes, well…”

Jim contained his smile as he remembered and casted with his eyes closed. Before he could open his eyes he could hear ‘awws’ and laughter throughout the room, when he finally fully opened his eyes and they adjusted to the light he could what had caused the slight commotion. His patronus was a rabbit, a very small, rather cute rabbit.

“Good job, Moriarty. Go partner up with another one of your classmates for practice,” She said.

He strolled over and Sherlock stopped him, “What did you think of?”

“You tell me,” Jim smirked, he wasn’t going to make it easy for Sherlock even if he wanted to just tell him he couldn’t. 

“Me,” Sherlock said even though he should have asked, “You thought of me.”

Jim shrugged and smiled, “Be my partner,”

“Gladly,”

**Author's Note:**

> My first sheriarty fic! I think I've been thinking of prompts and wishing I would just write something since 2012 when I first started liking the ship but at least I've finally done it (five years late but it still counts)! This was based off a tumblr post about Jim being able to cast his patronus when he thinks of the time he spends with Sherlock, I can not for the life of me find it among my 2k+ likes on tumblr but it was so cute I had to write something for it. 
> 
> This author needs comments like Jim needs Sherlock ;)


End file.
